BioShock: Return To Rapture
by Kid Revenger
Summary: A submarine designer gets more than he bargained for in a dive that takes a turn for the worse. Please critique any and all
1. Chapter 1

The rolling ocean waves lapped up against the sides of the swaying boat, cutting its way through. Clyde looked out onto the flat, expansive waters that surrounded him. All he could do for most of the trip was sit and reflect on that fateful meeting that occurred not three months ago.

It seemed to start as a normal day. He was in his lab with the four students he interned from the local college. It seemed like another day. At least until she walked in the door.

"Dr. Clyde Johnson?" She inquired, walking up to the man.

He turned, setting his current experiment aside. "Yes, ma'am. What can I do for you?"

"My name is Eleanor Lamb. I wanted to talk to you about something very important."

He was a little put off by this, but considering this current experiment had no time limit, he called over his shoulder. "Continue with your work. I'm going to my office for a moment."

With the acknowledgement from the four others in the room, he led Eleanor down a short hall, to a claustrophobic room.

He moved a box out of the extra seat. "My apologies Mrs. Lamb. It's been a busy year so far."

"Perfectly alright. And please, Call me Eleanor."

"Then call me Clyde. And skip the Doctor stuff. Never enjoyed the idea."

She stifled a snicker, and then sat down. "I understand that you are currently doing some deep sea experimentations, Clyde."

He smiled. "Hardly, Eleanor. All I really am doing is studying a current system to allow deeper ocean exploration. There are parts of the ocean that we have never seen before, and current diving bells only allow so much."

His gaze shifted, the natural curiosity in him taking over. "For my own sake, tell me why you are so interested."

She shifted in her seat, fixing her eyes on him. "There is a reef, out in the Atlantic ocean. It has recently been discovered that there is oil in the region, and plans have started to surface that drilling may occur there. I wanted to organize a group to examine this reef, to see if there is a chance to hopefully preserve it. I cannot ask this of any large organization, so I am sadly forced to inquire of smaller research labs."

He nodded. "I admit to a level of curiosity, Eleanor. I was never really that much of a biologist. In fact I failed it in school. But, I did hope to maybe have a better reason than just a swim to test a new sub design." His eyes glanced at the walls, the multiple drawings and blueprints along it. "That, sadly, is only a pipe dream."

Her eyes followed his, looking at the complicated sketches along the walls, pinned in place by tacks. "Mr. Johnson. I am more than willing to aid you in this endeavor. In fact, I am offering to fully fund your research and development."

His eyes widened at her words. "Mrs. Lamb, I have heard that too many times in my life. From the Feds, from private companies, hell I had an offer years ago from some small firm…" he snapped his fingers "what was it again…oh yes! Fontaine Futuristics."

She winced under the name. Then she reached into her purse, extracting a checkbook. "Dr. Johnson, I can write any kind of numbers on this check." She pulled out a pen, poising it over the paper. "Tell me, what will it take?"

He sighed again, his gaze now out to the ocean again. "How the hell did I let her rope me into this…"

"I thought it was the promise of millions of dollars," came an answer that he didn't expect. He turned to catch the gaze of Laura, one of the grad students.

"Not nice to sneak up on someone lost in thought." He snickered.

She offered him a cup. "We're going to be on the diving spot in about two more hours."

"It's all coming together." He glanced out again, this time looking at one of the larger boats, and its cargo, sitting in the open.

Laura looked over with him. "Seems the Nautilus is ready for the water."

He nodded.

"Think Jules Verne will mind me borrowing the name of his sub for mine?"

She laughed. "I doubt it. Seeing it as a new form of underwater travel may actually be a selling point to him."

He laughed. "Well good." He sipped the warm brew in the cup. "Did you do all the checks? Radio, cameras, the like?"

She sighed. "Yes. For the hundredth time this hour. All cameras read clear, the radio is perfect, and the fact that your harping on this is just your nerves. It will work fine."

Clyde scratched his head. "I guess so."

Another hour passed with more obsessing and checking on the Nautilus, and the constant assurances that everything was ready. He, however, still paced the hallways, sat in his cabin, running the math for the hull strength at least four times, and pestered the captain enough to merit being thrown out of the control room until they arrived.

When Clyde had run the figures on the view windows for the second time again, a squelch came from the inside PA system.

"Everyone get ready. We're over the dive site."

He bolted out onto the deck, looking around. All that was there was the three boats, now bobbing in the more active waters. It seemed like nothing was around. But he knew it wasn't the area over the water that was why they were here.

Getting the Nautilus into the water was, as Clyde voiced it, "One of the longest thirty minutes ever."

But soon, the fifteen foot long device was now bobbing in the water along the carrier ship. Clyde was now hurrying as quickly as he could to get into the device.

Eleanor walked up to the ladder. "Be careful." She said, after what seemed to be a hunt for words.

He smiled. "It's a simple thing. Swim around, snap some pictures, come back. Nothing to it."

She seemed nervous as he descended into the sub, sealing the door behind him.

A series of switches and knobs slowly brought the water over the view windows, allowing Clyde a view into the ocean depths. More and more opened up to him the further down. When he halted his descent, his amazed eyes absorbed the immense amount of life that now moved and swayed around the machine.

A familiar voice crackled over the radio. "Hey Clyde. Everything okay down there?"

He attached a headset, squeaking on the controls. "Picture perfect. And things seem to be holding. Are you receiving the feed?"

"Getting it now." Came the response. "Amazing."

"Your still about a half a mile or so from the reef," came a new voice over the radio.

"Right Eleanor. Time to swim."

A series of switches started the humming behind him up, now moving the Nautilus along the water. Fish darted out of the path, kelp swayed away from the wake. It was a feeling of freedom that enveloped him so much, he barely heard the radio crackling in his ear.

When he finally did snap out of the trance, he had to ask them to repeat what they said.

"I said, the next ridge should bring the target into view." Laura's voice called to him.

He was back at the controls, adjusting the depth to allow a clean clearing of the submerged ridge line.

What came into view though caught him by surprise.

"Uh…" Clyde was at a loss of words. "Are you seeing this?"

"I am getting a picture," Laura answered. "But this can't be right."

"It is right." Came Eleanor's voice.

"But this is…" Clyde couldn't finish his sentence.

"Yes. It's a city."

The buildings towered over him, neon lights attached to the sides advertising diners, bars and hotels. The fish swam between the towering structures, connected occasionally by a clear tube that saw the odd figure move inside them.

Clyde had to check his depth guage again, not believing his own eyes. "Someone up there needs to explain in a goddamned hurry why I am three hundred feet below sea level looking at a city."

A moment of tense silence was broken by Eleanor's voice. "What I said about oil is true. But the main problem that comes up is that this city needs to be forgotten. Things have happened here since the mid 50's, and they need to be hidden. I needed the pictures and eye-witnesses to attest to its existence."

"Mother fucker…" Clyde swore under his breath. "Well, now that you got your pictures what the fuck do we do now?"

"All I needed is the photos and your eyes. I would suggest getting out of there now."

Clyde was biting his lip in an effort not to scream in frustration. Something stunk of a sub-text, but a few million dollars to get his project off the ground blinded him.

"Fuck that." He barked into the headset. "You lied and dragged us out here, so now I am going to get my money's worth." He worked the controls, now moving the sub forward into the city itself.

Eleanor began to voice protests, but was shut out by Clyde asking Laura to direct him through it. Laura had to go up to the control room and get the sonar to give her a better look around.

The buildings seemed to stretch on, giving this new place quite a feel of hugeness. Clyde even mused something about feeling like New York, submerged by an earthquake.

Suddenly something streaked by the sub. "What the fuck?" was all that he could mutter before the machine shook so violently that the controls were wrenched from his grasp.

What then sounded like an explosion started to spin the craft in a way no one thought possible under water.

One final explosion hit, stopping the spinning motion only long enough for Clyde to slam his head into the control panel, knocking him out.

The sound of rushing water was the first to greet his ears as he blinkingly opened his eyes.

"Water?" Suddenly he was up, though the throbbing of his head dropped him again. He looked around to see that he was no longer in the sub, but through the newly destroyed front view window. The flowing water sound was the sea, trying to enter the hole that his craft had made in the building. He quickly got the radio from the sub, and quickly started looking around, knowing that the water was quickly winning the struggle.

Spotting a door, he instinctively started sprinting for it. Flinging it open to find a hallway, he slammed the door behind him and continued sprinting. Stairs leading up took him three floors before he heard the eminent sound of the ocean claiming the previous floors.

One floor opened up into a large lobby of some kind, lavish furniture organized rather well. He barely had the time to admire it as he dashed through, seeing a large metal door open up near him. He sprinted through it in time to hear the water closing in. The door slid shut behind him, and the water bashed against it, the door bowing under its strain.

Insdie the clear walkway, he looked over at the building he recently vacated. He saw his sub, now sticking out of the wall. His eyes were quick to notice that it was hardly damaged in the wreck.

The creak of metal drew his attention where it needed to be.

He dashed for the opposite end of the walkway, the same door sliding open for him. It slid down, giving him a fleeting glance as the door finally gave way. The door closed, followed by a loud banging sound that made Clyde think that no one was going to use that walkway again.

Thankfully this time, the door seemed to hold better, only being pinned shut and not straining against the sea.

He finally had a moment to gain his bearings.

He looked around the new space he occupied. A high ceiling covered what could only be called a very posh lobby. Plenty of seating around simple coffee tables, a long pair of counters that reminded him of more extravagant hotels he had seen. The main draw to him was the tall windows that showed the outside, the fish swimming by, an odd whale moving through. The most important part was the other building and the view that he had. The sub was now not a cork in the wall, and had been slid into place on the floor where he crashed, the hole and back propeller section all that was visible. It was probably still in decent condition, he hoped beyond hope.

He hooked the radio to his belt, fitting the headset again.

"Anyone hear me?" he called, filtering through the channels, forgetting the frequency that the boat had tried to hammer into his head to remember.

A few cries into the static garnered a startled voice. "Who is this?" came a voice in a clear german slant.

"I'm Clyde. Who is this?" He answered, not really sure who was on the ships. There could have been a german on board, he wouldn't remember it.

"My name, it is Tenenbaum." Came the voice back to him. "Why are you able to hear me? And I hear you?"

"I crashed into a building."

The shock was hard to miss in the respondent's voice. "You found Rapture? For why?"

"What? Rapture? Okay lady. What the fuck is going on?"

There was a moment of silence while Clyde could feel his patience ticking away. Then the voice came back. "Ah. You were on the ships nearby. I was hearing your sonar. I suppose there is no way around it. You are in Rapture. A dead city. Lost to time, and should have stayed that way."

"Fucking perfect." He dropped into a chair, now noticing that his feet were bothering him. "I need to get in contact with those ships."

"I can help with that." Tenenbaum's voice disappeared a moment, then a familiar voice came over the headset.

"Doc! Clyde! Where are you dammit?"

"Laura? Can you hear me?"

"Clyde! Thank god!" Her exasperated sigh was audible. "We thought you were dead."

"Not for lack of trying." Clyde said, then regaled them with the events that lead him where he was now.

"Is the sub fixable?" Laura asked.

"Couldn't tell." Clyde answered, now looking at the hole through the windows again. "But, from what I could catch, it seems like it should still be workable. Just that its now under water, and I can't do repairs like that."

"Maybe," Tenenbaum's voice came back over the radio. "But you could get the sub to a dry spot. The maintenance yard, at Ryan Industries has been dry for a while now. Get your sub there and you could fix it. Right?"

"Easier said than done." Clyde sighed. "How do I get it there? And where the fuck do I go?"

"I can lead you. You may need to do some things along the way, but we will get you out of this city."

Clyde sighed, stood up, straightening his shirt. "Alright. Give me the Rapture grand tour."


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

The flickering lights of the grand hall barely aided his attempts to see, the signs that the ocean had only recently vacated this area dotted the enclosure.

"Okay, Tenenbaum. I suppose the first thing I'm going to need is a way out of this room."

A sigh came over the headset. "The route, it is destroyed. Debris from the crash."

"Incredible. I haven't been here five minutes and already fucked myself. Now what?"

A pause, then Laura's voice came back. "Our sonar is picking up another tunnel along the building where you are."

Tenenbaum's voice picked up. "Yes. The maintenance tunnel. You will have some crawling, but you can get to the next building."

Clyde stood. "I'll swim if it gets me outta here. So, how do I get there? I got no bearings here."

"The only thing is a map. Ryan made sure that there was plenty around Rapture."

Clyde began his search of the lobby, keeping Tenenbaum talking. "Ryan? Who's Ryan?"

"Do you not know of Andrew Ryan?"

"Andrew Ryan? I know OF him. Pretty decent engineer and designer. You meant to tell me that he built this crazy place?"

"Yes. He took his ideals and brought them here. Brought Rapture up on the ideas of letting each person have what they make."

"Nice." Clyde opened a nearby desk, bringing up a map, covered in plastic and stinking of sea water and time. "Alright. Now, I need to get familiar with this town."

The crawl through the maintenance shaft brought back memories of building the Nautilus, the claustrophobic confines bringing a smile to his face. He always preferred being in a small spot, just himself for company.

Though the radio seemed to think differently. "How's it going Clyde?" Laura's voice came over the headset.

"All I can think is that Ryan must not have been claustrophobic. This tunnel is barely big enough for me."

"An unfortunate for being underwater," Tenenbaum said. "From what I can tell, you should be almost out of there, though."

As if her words willed it, the grate appeared in front of him, revealing a large plaza. The vaulted ceilings supported marvelous chandeliers, each illuminating the well-decorated interior.

"This must be the spa. Map said this is one of the more posh spots in Rapture."

"Indeed. Fontaine seemed to want Rapture to be more high-brow, in the rare things he could actually do."

"Wait. Fontaine? As in Fontaine Futuristics?" He used the temporary surprise to force open the grate, crawling into the openness.

"Yes. Why?"

"Seems all that I come across with this expedition connects to Fontaine and his ilk." He lowered himself from the elevated hole, scanning around as his feet made contact with the thick carpeting.

Designed with extravagance in mind, the room was nothing short of immaculate, almost defying the water outside its windows. Red velvet chairs and couches circling some of the finest wood work tables Clyde ever saw.

"Then again, my apartment looks like a dump," he mused out loud.

"All that I am seeing says the ways through the spa should be clear," Tenenbaum's voice called to him. "Should be no problem moving through here."

He walked through, scanning the area with caution. It was the sudden movement in the corner of his eye that broke his gaze.

"Hello?" He called out, trying to catch any kind of movement that he could. His vision failed him, though, and all he could see was the emptiness of the lobby.

"Uh…Tenenbaum? Dumb question; is there a violence problem in Rapture right now?"

"Oh, there is never a moment without it," she mused. "The civil war was just the starting place."

"Civil war? Oh, that's just great." His eyes now had a new purpose as they scanned the room.

The first few doors that he attempted to open didn't yield to him, one seemingly bolted shut. A quick glance to the map gave him a solution. "I have to get a wrench."

The maintenance door may have been locked at one point, but that lock was long since destroyed, as the door easily slid open for him, revealing a handyman's dream.

"Clyde?" Laura's voice crackled through the headset.

"At least Fontaine wanted to make sure this place never fell over or broke. There are tools here even I don't know what the hell they do." His hands lighted on the object he had searched for, a red-handled, adjustable pipe wrench.

The teeth of the tool gripped the bolts tight; the metal whine as they strained to move gave Clyde the final push. The bolts finally gave way; the door's makeshift barricade finally relinquished its hold.

The hall before him was yet another glass tube, the ocean all around it. "Oh just great. I'm really starting to hate these tubes."

Fortune was with him, however, as no calamity occurred to hinder his way through.

The new lobby that stood before him was as posh and beautiful as that of the spa, but the longer desk and obvious furnishing behind it told what he now stood in.

The map gave its name. "The Gold Fountain?"

"Fontaine was not a truly decent man. When one knew extravagance, he wanted to think of his buildings." Tenenbaum sighed heavily in the radio. "It is rare surprise that Ryan did not like what he was doing to this city."

"That, and a few other things, of course," Eleanor's absent voice now spoke up. "Though, they are part of the history of this city I wish to keep buried."

A sudden light switching on caught Clyde's attention. "Hey, Tenenbaum. There seems to be some kind of…vending machine here. Any of them have food? I really didn't eat much before getting into the water."

"I do not know what machines you see. What names are on them?"

"Only one. The Gatherer's Garden."

The silence made him suspicious. When her voice came back, she spoke in a more dominant tone. "That machine is not food dispenser. That machine holds one of the chief reasons this city went to hell. It is a plasmid dispenser."

"Plasmid dispenser? What the hell is a plasmid?"

"Genetic modifications," Eleanor piped up. "These plasmids and tonics have the unusual ability to re-write the human genome. "

As if something inside the machine heard this, a sudden clanging noise issued from it. From a slot in the base of the machine slid out a box. Clyde gently picked it up. "A splicing starter kit?"

The silence was becoming too much for him, but when a voice came to him again, it was shaky and uncertain. "Clyde…you may have to use that kit."

"Why?"

"Starter kits, they contain a simple plasmid and tonic. They will help you through this city, of that I am certain. But, you will need to prepare yourself. As a first time user will feel the effects rather harshly." Tenenbaum's voice attempted to remain steady.

Clyde was now scared, in ways he didn't know he could be. He set the box on the long counter, and opened the lid. Three simple things lay inside it.

"So…what do I do with this thing?"

"What do you see?" Eleanor questioned.

"Two bottles and what looks like a syringe."

"Take the syringe and fill it with one of the fluids, through the wax top."

He held the bottles, one glowing, almost a fluorescent yellow, its partner a more pale blue. "Which one?"

"The yellow one…" Tenenbaum's voice trailed off.

Clyde's hands now shook as he attempted to fill the sizable syringe. A brushing against the metal paddle on its back launched the spring loaded plunger upward, filling the bottle with the yellow liquid. "Now what?"

"Inject it into your arm…" A sudden sound came over, one that Clyde could only interpret as a stifled sob.

He looked at his left arm, his fear of needles bearing its head. He closed his eyes, trying to focus his thoughts. "It is to get out of this city, to get back to my life." He gritted his teeth and plunged the needle into his arm, winching at the contact. His arms were becoming numb, but his last strength was used to press the plunger downward.

The sudden surge that filled his body snapped his eyes open. It felt like he had grabbed a wire, an electrical surge suddenly filling his body. His hand sparked in the blue-yellow coloring of the arcs that now flew between his fingers. The pure feeling was overwhelming, the electricity running through him causing him to scream. It seemed like an eternity before the surge stopped, the suddenness of it causing him to black out.


	3. Chapter 3

Consciousness came and went for Clyde. One wave brought a large stomping noise to his attention, a boot easily the size of his torso landing in his fuzzy eyesight. But, it was the voice that caught him. It sounded young, but with an echo behind each word, that almost was the complete polar opposite to the first, dark and menacing.

"Look, Mr. Bubbles. An angel…can you see the Adam in him Mr. B?"

A small foot came into sight from behind the larger, propelling what looked like a five year-old girl to his side.

"Wait a minute. He's still breathing…"

The young one looked into Clyde's eyes as his head rolled to stare at the ceiling. "Don't worry mister. You will be an angel soon."

The words seemed to echo as he slipped out of consciousness again.

…

The life seemed to return to him, his vision finally focusing as the dull ache of whatever damage that had been done was wearing down.

Consciousness seemed to offer his hearing back, as he heard the voice in his ear. "Clyde! Clyde, dammit! Answer me!"

"Laura?" he barely got out, the energy drained from his body was slowly returning to him.

"Oh!" She yelled in a way that Clyde knew that she was away from the microphone. "He's alive!"

Eleanor's voice was the next one to come to him. "Clyde, how do you feel?"

"Like I've just been hit by a truck."

"Side effect of gene splicing," Tenenbaum's voice came up. "The body is not so eager to re-write its code and will retaliate. Though, by now, the process should be completed."

Clyde stood up, his knees barely able to keep him upright. He put a hand on the counter to steady his wobbly stance, and brushed the box. The other bottle sat in the padded box.

"Now I'm scared shit-less to even attempt the other." He picked up the bottle, making sure his hands still did their jobs. "Speed Boost?"

"Ah. A tonic. I would imagine that your body would not rebel as much with that one." Tenenbaum's voice made a sad attempt to reassure the spooked scientist.

"Think of it as a form of steroids, Clyde," Eleanor's voice piped up.

"Not too fond of the thought of juicing," he mused.

"Trust us. It will help you."

He sighed, and then found a chair nearby, sitting down to take the next shot. The spring loaded plunger sucked up the blue liquid, and the stabbing into his arm was mildly easier, with the aches of the first's effects dulling him.

The rush came in a wave; sudden dizziness struck him as the syringe emptied into his arm. He started panting heavily, his lungs not giving him the breath he needed. It did not hurt, but the blood flow suddenly became greater in his legs, the starting to involuntarily twitch. The movements amplified, until he was almost banging on the floor. As quickly as the wave came, it subsided. The rush came down, and his legs once again became his to control.

"Holy shit…" he gasped.

"Clyde?" Eleanor's concerned voice chimed through.

"I have done my fair share of experimentation in college. All those drugs are pussy shit compared to that!" He yelled out the last word, standing up. He felt more agile, his feet moving quick as he jogged in place. "This is unreal. I've never done a day of running in my life!"

"Clyde. We are overjoyed with your abilities. But, let us not forget why you are here." Tenenbaum sighed, obvious frustration in her tone.

His thinking mind began to return to him. "Oh shit. Right…sorry."

He began again, looking around the room. Though, he did allow himself a little fun by running from one end of the lobby to the other. All it did was show him how expansive something could be, and yet have almost nothing in it. He scanned the map again, trying to see any ways of getting out.

That was when he heard the voices, the words of the men and women that seemed to get louder. He moved behind the desk, pulling the wrench from its home on his hip.

"You sure you heard something here? No one's been here for ages." A male voice asked.

"Positive. That's why it was so weird." Came a woman's voice.

A new male voice scoffed. "Probably nothing here but Sisters anyway."

Clyde peeked over the woodwork, to see the doorway they had come through sliding shut. He watched the three begin to scan the room, each of them holding an odd blunt weapon in their hands.

"Don't go too far. If there is a Sister here, there will also be a Daddy. Got to gang up on the suckers." The first male voice advised, keeping the other man from wandering.

Clyde watched them a moment, his mind racing. "What the fuck do I do…?"

Fight.

The word just popped into his head. He shook it away a moment. But, it returned.

Fight.

He watched them a moment, his thinking mind began to put pieces together. It was a war zone. He had to do something to protect himself. There was going to be bloodshed.

FIGHT!

He dashed out from behind the counter, cracking the man in the head with the wrench. The sickening thud of metal on bone spun the others around, but another swing drove the woman off her feet.

Tenenbaum shrieked into his ear. "Use your plasmid! Use that new power!"

"HOW?!" he asked in panic as his swing came down again on the first man.

"Concentrate. Feel the power building in your hands, and then let it loose!"

The last man had begun to move on him, so it was now or never. His mind repeated the same mantra. Build the charge…feel the electricity…

The arcs of blue lightning sparked between his fingers, building in intensity. The man froze in place as he saw the power. "You're a splicer…" he barely got out.

Clyde thrust his hand forward, pushing the energy out from him. The bolt sizzled from his hand and streaked across the room, slamming its target in to a wall, shocking him with both surprise and electricity.

Clyde watched in marvel as the target slumped lifelessly to the floor. He stared in disbelief, first at the man then at his own hand. Had he really done that?

"Clyde? What is going on?" Laura's concern crackled through the headset.

"Something that I am almost certain I will never be able to explain properly…" he could only mutter.


End file.
